


The Line

by ChloeWinchester



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWinchester/pseuds/ChloeWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ursula and Cruella aren't the ones who bring Rumplestiltskin back, Belle is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Line

They weren’t coming.

His last chance, his only chance to get back to that town, back to the one thing in his life that made sense. His wife. His love. His Belle. Never would he see her again, or hear her voice or hold her, or tell her how sorry he was, tell her how much it hurt just to be away from her, how magic wasn’t what he needed, free will and a lifetime with her, that’s what he needed. What he wanted.

Power, power, all that talk about power was all it was. Talk from a frightened man. He was always so afraid…

He was going to tell her everything. He was going to get on his knees and confess everything he’d kept from her to keep her from dwelling, keep his pride in tact, hide his shame, hide the pain settled deep in his heart and the lies, the secrets he had, he wanted to tell her everything. She deserved to know.

And now he’d never get that chance.

He’d been standing here for so long, the cold air making his leg ache and throb as it stiffened. It hurt, his heart already so battered and weak twisting in horrible agony. His bones were so weary and the constant ache behind his eyes absolutely never went away. Without Belle, it seemed, he wilted, and was slowly turning to dust.

No hope, nowhere to go, nothing to do but leave and die off somewhere he couldn’t hurt her  ever again, he turned away. He limped away from her again, from his happy ending he would never see. No Belle. Never, ever again would he hold his beautiful wife, hear her laugh, watch her smile, look into her eyes  or taste her lips. Never know what it might have been like if  by some kind of miracle, Belle had forgiven him.

He wished he’d gone to Baelfire’s grave one more time.

His limp stronger, he staggered away, his heart heavy, the tittering in his mind growing louder to assure him of just how disgusting he was. How evil, horrible and deluded he had to be to think this would ever work in his favor when nothing else had before. Wicked little imp with no hope and no chance, never a chance in this world was as unforgiving as Belle’s hard words and devastated eyes.  It was so loud he almost missed the call to him.

“Wait!”

He froze, but did not turn. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head a little. He wasn’t that fortunate, and never in his wildest dreams could he be so lucky.

~*~

She had been watching, just on the other side of him, watching his face. So close, so very close, he was just inches in front of her, crying.

The instinct to reach out and touch him was so strong, and she had to fight not to breach the barrier for only a moment to cup his face and offer him a shred of comfort.

He looked so lost. And broken. No facade, no veils up, no one around to impress or lie to, no one to be strong for, no one to know his weakness was there, and no...no hope left. Tired and drooped as he looked, his eyes were young and fragile and it broke her heart to finally see the frightened little boy under all that hardened pride.

If this were about his magic, he would be angry. He would have smashed his cane on the ground, cursed everyone he’d ever known and start to think of another way.

This? Tears? No, no, nothing to do with magic. Everything to do with her.

She shouldn’t be standing here, she shouldn’t have this scroll in her hand, she shouldn’t be doing this at all. When Cruella and Ursula approached her she was afraid, but then they started talking, and…

“Take this and go collect your husband.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard her. You want to see what he’s like without you, you want to see how utterly pathetic you’ve made him, go. We can’t get anything done if he spends this entire time pining after you, little maid.”

She had glared between them. “You’re helping him.”

“He’s helping us. Besides, this might hurt more anyway.”

Against everything she was telling herself she was here, the scroll in her hand, the dagger in the car, shaking from head to toe with her own fears, her sobs locked in her throat.

His face crumpled entirely and he started to leave. Tattered, worn, hurting as he was he limped from her, looking fit to collapse with grief at any moment and she simply couldn’t allow it.

Weak…

No. No, this was the strongest she had ever been, and the most open he had been with her.

It took her a moment to gain the courage to chase him over the line, another moment to find her voice and call to him.

He stood rigid, unsure. He didn’t look at her, why wasn’t he looking at her? She needed him.

She choked on an escaped sob. “Rumple, come back.”

~*~

Please, please let this be real. Let her be real, please...please…

Slowly, he turned.

“Belle?”

An illusion, a trick his mind was playing on him and nothing more. She couldn’t be here, she wouldn’t be here, she wouldn’t…

A tear slid down his face, his voice rough and cracking. “Belle?”

“Come here,” she pleaded, taking a step toward him. “Come back here, Rumple, please.”

Hesitantly he approached her, his limp still just as severe and before he could fully reach her she ran the rest of the way to him and hugged him so tight.

The cane dropped from his hand so he could hold her with both arms, pressing his face into her neck and crying. She touched his hair and held the back of his head, shaking with her own cries.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I can’t make up for anything- I can’t, Belle, but I-I’ll, I don’t want power, I want you! I want you!”

“You can’t prove that,” she whimpered, face wet.

He looked at her, shattered as they both were. “Then leave me here. Leave me here and just, come see me every day. Or when, when you can. Leave me here, Belle.”

“Leave…?” She shook her head. “No. No, I- Why?”

“Because it would be better than having all the power in the world and no you. I don’t want magic. That’s not what makes me strong.” He stared at her. She pulled him close again, sobbing into his hair.

“I’m so angry with you,” she growled, her heart filling with life again despite all the pain it endured. He nodded fast.

“I know. I know. You have every right.”

“I-I’ll take you home,” she whispered, voice tight. “But you, we’re not sleeping in the same bed. We’re starting over, understand? Other than our wedding rings, we’re starting over.”

He nodded again. “Yes, Belle.”

“No more secrets,” she whimpered, the lump in her throat getting harder to speak through. “No more, I can’t take anymore.”

And he gushed.

The levee holding back everything burst in that moment and he confessed to everything. Every little thing, all he’d endured in that cage, the torture, the touches, killing Zelena, switching the daggers out for Belle, his intention with the hat and the women he’d brought here, everything.

Now they were on their knees, her hands cupping his face while she shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me what the witch did?” She sobbed. “Why didn’t you just tell me, Rumple?”

“I was ashamed,” he confessed. “I was so ashamed of everything she made me do, everything she inflicted on me, I didn’t want you to know, I didn’t want...want you to look at me like that.”

Belle pulled him close again, desperate and touching him wherever she could. “Do not keep things from me anymore.”

“Never,” he swore, leaning back to look at her. His hand trembling, he carefully pressed his fingertips under her chin. “You look so tired.”

“And you look just as weary,” she blurted, searching his face, taking in his features. Not a dream, not an illusion, this was him. No smoke and mirrors, no false smiles or masks, no theatrics. Just her husband. She let out another tiny sob and leaned in, catching his lips.

The kiss was as frantic and desperate as they felt. Lips shaking, hands fighting to rest somewhere and not squeeze and hold tight to every inch of the other just to be sure, sure, the other was real. Lips were bitten, tears mingling together and both were sobbing when they finally broke apart.

His hands gently rested on her neck, their foreheads together just...looking at each other. Belle idly smoothed his hair, still shaking.

Despite her anger, despite all of her rage she felt whole again. Complete. Home.

Rumplestiltskin was home.


End file.
